Ryan Coogler's latest project may have revitalized the idea of African American undead, but the origins of this subgenre trace back to the 1970s cultural movement. Among the most memorable early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, William Marshall's character is bitten by Dracula and burdened with the demeaning name “Blacula.” Originally written as a caricature, the performer transformed the role into something majestic, giving his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, the comedic star seemed to take inspiration from his predecessor, enriching his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's take on the African American horror niche: Vampire in Brooklyn. Murphy's Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being persecuted to the edge of annihilation. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be funny, terrifying, and intellectually stimulating simultaneously, earning its position in the hall of fame by juggling all three while honoring the subgenre's legacy.
Debuted three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is currently streaming on Tubi, making it an essential watch if you want a little comedy with your frights this Halloween.
From Zamunda to Brooklyn
Like the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's 1988 masterpiece), the vampire lead is drawn to New York City. But instead of traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he arrives from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, aiming to find and secure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his tribe.
The character makes his entrance in New York aboard a phantom vessel whose sailors has been mysteriously slaughtered, a nod to Nosferatu. The ship is found by ship inspector Silas Green (the comedian) and his relative Julius Jones (Kadeem Hardison), two of the film's funniest characters. Silas then witnesses a dark creature leap from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a human — like the iconic routine from the extended Black or White video. Groovy Blaxploitation-style music kicks in, setting the mood for a movie that handily balances scares and laughs.
Artistic Goals
Recently after his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, Craven was keen to break from his horror reputation and make a more hybrid genre film (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which exploited scary conventions for both laughs and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star wanted to subvert expectations by venturing into a pure scary movie rooted in vampire mythology. The conflict of those creative goals explains the film's exposition-heavy opening of Max's origins and its somewhat slow commencement. But once the movie clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its strengths — like its eclectic cast.
Angela Bassett, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose dynamic with her colleague and romantic lead, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a procedural element to the story. One of Black cinema’s most praised actresses, Bassett gives a powerful performance alongside Payne, a well-known actor from the time. Meanwhile, the lead spends the majority of the film with his comedic partner, forming a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as the actor's Julius Jones becomes the vampire's minion. (Seeing Julius sink deeper and deeper into his macabre part as his skin decays during the movie is a standout moment of how the star's comedic style enhances the comedy and horror, even when employed by the cast).
Gothic Intrigue
When the two leads meet and the stars finally share the screen, the movie hits its stride — the tension heightens, the scares intensify, and their sinister attraction takes center stage. Max’s plan is to remove all Rita has in her life and then intervene. He kills her roommate, drives a wedge in between her and her love interest, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque prosthetics to disguise himself as a clergyman and undermine her faith.
As the story progresses, it becomes increasingly Gothic, featuring transformations and revelations of origins. This results in a third act filled with temptation, as mortality and damnation are at stake. The movie concludes with a stinger suggesting a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the movie performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn made a modest box office return and received mostly negative reviews upon debut. As years passed, it gained popularity as a beloved classic, with reviewers later praising Craven’s direction, the electric chemistry the leads, and its clever mix of frights and fun. The film shows glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had all participants been aligned on a unified vision, rather than producing the mixed-genre result audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its spot in the canon of African American scary movies, an overlooked but influential entry characterized by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
